


no gifts for the giftless

by Iolaire02



Series: rags to riches [2]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Introspection, POV Second Person, also kind of an unreliable narrator, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:08:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29960706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iolaire02/pseuds/Iolaire02
Summary: So you are intimately familiar with the details of the story; you hold an even deeper acquaintance with the gifts that prove the story’s truth; and you know this: your name was never mentioned.
Series: rags to riches [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2203581
Kudos: 1





	no gifts for the giftless

**Author's Note:**

> I was reading a fic that pointed out that Edmund never met Father Christmas and then this happened. (Should I put the fic that inspired this down if it was one throw-away line and not the entire thing?)
> 
> Enjoy, and please let me know what you think!

You don’t know about it until after – you are, after all, the prisoner of the White Witch; you are, after all, a traitor; you are, after all, trapped in a wintry prison partially of your own making – but the others meet Father Christmas.

You do not.

They, like all good Narnians, are given gifts: a sword and shield for the magnificent, so that he may defend and fight for and protect his kingdom; a horn and a bow and quiver for the gentle, so that when she is no longer able to fight she may call for help; healing cordial and a dagger for the valiant, for it takes as much courage to save a life as it does to end one.

You know the story well, for it is one that is dear to your siblings’ hearts. By the time the four of you had blundered your way into Narnia, the Witch’s magic was weakening. Winter was drawing to an end and spring had begun to show its sleepy face – the evidence of it was in the melting snow, in cracking ice, in flowers cropping up. The evidence of it was in Father Christmas’ return.

So you are intimately familiar with the details of the story; you hold an even deeper acquaintance with the gifts that prove the story’s truth; and you know this: your name was never mentioned.

Your valiant, golden sister tries to console you. She claims that your name did not pass Father Christmas’ lips because you were not there with them to accept your gift. She claims that everyone knows that a gift received second-hand holds less value than one placed into the hands of the receiver by the hands of the giver.

You know better.

For all that you are young you have a unique ability to see to the heart of the matter. It is a curse that befell you only after you were freed from your prison of ice and snow.

You can see what she who is courageous cannot; unlike her you are not brave enough to look for the good in things. You can speak the words which are too harsh for gentle lips; you have never been one for the softness of spared feelings. You can admit the truths your brother is too magnificent to acknowledge; you were never one to delude yourself into thinking you were as deserving of your appellation as the others – you know that magnificence such as your brother’s is something you cannot hope to achieve.

The reason is this: Father Christmas did not mention you.

You know that this lapse was not one of judgement. Instead you were not named because there was never a gift for you.

You know that you have always been more caustic than your siblings. You have always been more prone to hate and jealousy than they. It has always been you that holds grudges, for you are not valiant enough to forgive as unflinchingly as your younger sister, and neither are you gentle enough to let go of the past, nor magnificent enough so as to be above such petty things. It is this that drove you into the Witch’s arms.

It was this that sealed your fate. It was your _weakness_ that kept the utterance of your name from the melting winter air.

There was never a gift for you because you were always a traitor.

Even before you left the Beavers’ dam to begin the terrible trek up to the Witch’s home; even before your siblings’ names tumbled from your sugar-coated, spell-bound lips; even before you mocked a girl younger than yourself for made up worlds. Maybe even before your mother bade you farewell with a kiss to the crown of your head while train whistles sounded. Before everything – before _anything –_ you were destined to fall prey to your faults.

Before the beginning of the worlds, you were fated to betray far more than yourself.

Your siblings try telling you otherwise, but if ever there is something you know better than they do it is yourself. You know that – no matter the universe, no matter the circumstances – there is never a world that Father Christmas says your name. There is never a world where you are not _expected_ to give Narnia up in exchange for the cold embrace of a heartless woman whose promises you should know better than to trust.

There is never a world where you give your brother and sisters anything but stabbed backs and broken hearts. There is never a world where you are anything but a bitter, broken boy.

There is never a version of you with a gift for anything other than judgement, and – afterwards – you find you are more than capable of judging yourself.

Father Christmas never says your name. There is never a gift for you; and if there was it would not be a sword and shield, nor a horn and a bow and quiver, and certainly not healing cordial and a dagger.

* * *

In a world that never was – in a world that never is, that can never and will never be because no matter the world you remain unapologetically, unwaveringly yourself – your gift is a lump of coal, and you use it to burn the Witch.

**Author's Note:**

> I am so sorry about that last paragraph.
> 
> Before anyone gets the wrong idea, I am _not_ condoning the witch burnings because they were horrible and awful and no one deserves that. That being said, I don't think Edmund would be too upset if something of the sort happened to Jadis. But I could be wrong.
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Also I was thinking of writing a Soulmate AU/Ella Enchanted fusion (both at the same time) for Narnia. Is that something people would be interested in or should I just scrap it?


End file.
